Regrets
by Eclaire Heartilly
Summary: A collection of Isabela/fHawke one-shots I am writing as I play through the game.


Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Dragon Age or any of its characters.

* * *

_"Running is real and relatively simple…but it ain't easy." - Mark Will-Weber_

**Chapter 1: Running**

The brunette leaned against the doorframe, her hands clasped together in her lap as she surveyed the woman in the far corner of the bar. The Champion made sure to keep out of sight, if such a thing were possible for a person as renowned as her. She gazed around the fine establishment and sighed in relief. It was a comfort to know that some things never changed. As surely as the sun rose at dawn, the patrons of the Hanged man were drunk. As a consequence, nobody paid her any heed. Most importantly, nobody referred to her as the Champion, nobody kissed the ground she trod on, and nobody looked up to her. It was a momentary reprieve from her duties and obligations and for that, she was thankful.

It was hard to believe that only a few weeks had gone by since the Qunari had left Kirkwall. To Hawke, it seemed an eternity. Her physical wounds suffered at the hands of the Arishok had long since healed but she was still suffering from pain of another kind. Her thoughts naturally drifted back to the object of her observation. Luscious waves framed a sultry but kind face and those lips...Hawke missed their softness upon her own. A taut body, hardened by years of duelling and on the sea and of course, her bosom..._Ack_. Hawke immediately stopped this particular train of thought. The pirate was a woman who would surely murder her if she were to hear Hawke's particular description of her. She groaned inwardly; she was starting to sound like the many lechers that frequented the tavern. If Carver were still here, he'd surely laugh at her silliness or perhaps he would have turned away in disgust. He probably wouldn't have gotten along with the feisty temptress.

Her heart tightened suddenly as she heard a merry laugh at what surely was a display of Merill's naivety. Oh, she could see the young elf blush at the pirate's risqué words from here. Isabela and Merrill had hit it off quite well, much to Hawke's surprise. Though, she supposed it was not hard to be fond of the Rivaini. Her confidence and bluntness was refreshing and had drew Hawke in from the moment they had met. Her fondness grew as they fought side by side. The pirate's movements were precise, graceful and eloquent. The woman executed with cold efficiency and was sight to behold.

Part of her wanted to storm up to the table and yell at Isabela. Part of her wanted to rush up and gather her into her arms. It was beyond confusing. There was only one certainty; Hawke was upset with the pirate. After all, she had given the Rivaini her complete trust and loyalty, only to have it thrown back in her face. She scoffed. She was a rogue; she'd thought she knew all about backstabbing, but it seemed like Isabela had outdone her. Even though she hadn't expected any less, the note Isabela had left upset her deeply. She had never felt more betrayed; not even when Varric's brother Bartrand had left them to die in Deep Roads.

She'd known from the moment Isabela ran out of the warehouse, chasing after the thief, that she had meant to run out of Hawke's life for good. It was in the pirate's nature but a part of Hawke had hoped she had stayed, if not for morality, but for her, for them. It hurt because a little part of her had dared to hope that the Rivaini felt just an inkling of what Hawke had and still foolishly felt for her after these past 3 years.

Afterwards, it was easy to hate Isabela and for a while, she did, until the pirate waltzed back into the keep, returning the relic. Really, the blasted woman couldn't even allow her a smidgen of peace. She had some nerve to come back and claim it was Hawke's fault for her sudden development of a conscience! Hawke had never doubted Isabela's compassion and kindness and encouraged her to show it more often. Unlike her companions, she saw through the facade and saw the woman beneath.

Perhaps that was another reason why it hurt so much. Isabela had the potential to be so much more, always had to the choice to be better than she was but she always ran. She ran when things got tough and she ran from herself. Simply, Isabela ran and Hawke was not sure whether she could bear being left behind again. The emptiness of her estate never failed to remind her of how she had failed Carver, Bethany and her mother. Hawke failed the people she loved and she was sure she was to eventually fail Isabela as well. As much as the pirate deserved to be punished for her actions, for the needless deaths she had caused, Hawke could not allow the Qun to take the woman she had grown to like, to love perhaps, in the past 3 years. It was reckless to accept the duel but Hawke knew she had to win.

* * *

"So how is our dear Champion these days?" Isabela asked the Dalish elf, willing her voice to sound nonchalant.

Merrill shook her head, sighing. "You could go ask her yourself you know...," the mage replied as she fiddled with her cards. "You haven't gone once to see her since she woke up."

Hawke had been in bed for a week , recovering from her wounds, wounds that Isabela had caused. She stayed with the Champion as they carried her to her estate but left when it was clear Hawke would pull through. It was better that way. "Kitten, I have a feeling she would run me through with her daggers on sight," Isabela replied as she drew new cards.

"Do you really think so?" Marrill started. "How peculiar. To me, it seems silly to kill you now when she could have just handed you over to the Qunari. Though I suppose I haven't always understood the logic in her decisions."

It seemed that every conversation led Isabela to recall events that she so desperately wanted to bury. She wanted to forget the surprise that had been etched on Marian's face when Isabela had sauntered into the Keep with the relic in hand. She wanted to forget the shock and dread she had felt when the Qunari threatened to haul her back to the Qun in punishment. Most of all, she wanted to forget the funny little twinge she had felt when Marian moved to shield her from the imposing Arishok.

* * *

_"Oh, no, no, no, not a chance!" Aveline replied. "Only I get to kick her ass!"_

_"She stole the tome of Koslun," he intoned. "She must return with us."_

_"You have your relic. She stays with us!" Hawke said unflinchingly as she shielded Isabela._

_"Then you leave me no choice," the Arishok continued as he drew his blade. "I challenge you, Hawke. You and I will battle to the death with her as the prize." Isabela glared at the Qunari, feeling a little offended at being treated like a piece of meat._

_Isabela looked over at Hawke. Surely this was a joke. Was the woman seriously going to defend Isabela to the death, even after what she had done? One thing was for sure, Isabela had enough honour and conscience to know that she wasn't going to let Hawke go through with this._

_"No," Isabela interrupted. "If you're going to duel anyone, duel me!"_

_"You are not Basalit-an!" he boomed as he surveyed Isabela as one would look at an annoyance. It was the Qunari equivalent of a sneer. "You are unworthy."_

_Without a glance at Isabela, Hawke stepped up. "All right, let's dance." Isabela immediately growled and grabbed the foolish woman's arm, jerking her back. She wanted to slap some sense into the daft woman._

_"Are you crazy?" Isabela finally hissed. The Arishok was going to decapitate her woman. As moral-less as she was, she could not allow Hawke to sacrifice her life. "Hawke! Hawke!" she pleaded when Hawke shrugged Isabela off, ignoring her completely. She struggled as two Qunari took her by the arms and manhandled her away. "LET ME GO YOU BASTARDS! MARIAN!"_

_What woman did not have at least one fantasy about being saved by a knight in shining armour? However, instead of dwelling on this fantasy, Isabela could only watch in horror as the big Qunari charged at Hawke, her champion, hoping she would not have her blood on her hands as well._

* * *

Isabela downed her drink. The bloody whisky wasn't nearly strong enough. Or perhaps, she had gotten used to it. _Pitiful._

"How is it that you've won again?" Merrill complained as their hands were revealed. Isabela had to chuckle; the poor elf was so damn cute. She smirked when the Dalish crossed her arms in frustration as she watched Isabela take her winnings.

"That's because I cheat, kitten." the pirate twirled the piece of jewellery she had won in her hand thoughtfully and took a glance at the poor elf. "This is an amulet from the Dalish, your clan, is it not?" She pressed the amulet back into the mage's hands. "Keep it and never bet anything you're not willing to lose."

Isabela's eyes softened. Perhaps she should have listened to her own advice. As much as she hated to admit it, she had had let up for Hawke. Never before would she have returned the relic...or maybe she would have? "Bloody hell..." She hated doubting, she hated thinking, above all, she hated fucking feeling. Nothing good ever came of it. It was beyond pathetic. Speaking of the devil, Isabela arched an eyebrow when she saw the Champion approaching.

"Hawke!" Merrill called out as the Champion approached. "Haven't seen you around here for a while."

"I've been busy preventing the First Enchanter and the Knight-commander from killing each other. I swear, they bicker like a married couple," Hawke sighed exasperatingly as she plopped down on the bench beside Merill.

"Stranger things have happened. Like the other day in the Alienage, a flock of pigeons banded together and chased off a mean old cat. A nasty, fat cat too. Don't tell Anders I said that. I suppose that's symbolic of something? Don't you think?"

"If only all the mages banded together and cooed away the mean, old Templars," Hawke supplied. "That would solve a lot of problems."

"Oh...well...the pigeons actually poo-ed the cat away."

Hawke laughed at the mental imagery. She, for one, would never be able to take the Fireball spell seriously ever again. From the looks of it, neither would Isabela.

"Oh my goodness, look at the time! I have to go and ummm, run an errand," Merrill offered awkwardly, slinking away but not before giving Isabela a meaningful look.

"Uh sure, take care Merrill."

"So," Hawke offered, breaking the awkwardness caused by Merrill's not-so-subtle departure. Her blue eyes met the pirate's honey eyes for the first time in weeks. "You look well."

"Just well? You know flattery will get you nowhere, Hawke."

"Isabela..."

"Let me guess, you came here to talk," Isabela said as she leaned back. "Talk, talk, talk. Why delve into the nitty-gritty when you can just take things at face value?"

"Where would the fun be in that?"

"We have very different opinions on what constitutes as fun, sweet thing," the pirate replied as she poured Hawke a pint.

"I'll bet," Hawke took a drink from the proffered cup. "I believe you've been having too much fun."

"There's no such thing as too much fun."

"I really don't want to know about your escapades, Isabela," the Champion sighed.

"Escapades? I was referring to my annoying the shite out of Varric! Just what kind of woman do you take me for?" Isabela teased as Hawke chuckled.

"At face value? Aveline has more than a few choices words to describe you."

"Yes, yes. Whore is getting quite old, you know? And you?"

Herein lay the moment of truth. She could finally voice out her anger and tell her to sod off but no matter what Isabela said, she couldn't take the pirate's actions at face value. She had stood by Hawke for three years, supporting her in every endeavor. They had grown close, well, as close as one would expect when having "girly fun" every second night or so. She had even been there to console her when her mother had died. But really, Isabela had come back and Hawke realized that was all that mattered in the end. She made her decision.

"You're a scoundrel who seemingly has no qualms in acting first, and questioning later. People died because of that stupid relic. You could have died! The Qunari? Were you insane? It was impulsive, downright reckless!"

"How was I supposed to know what that book was?"

"I'm not done," Hawke continued. "You're also a scoundrel who frees slaves, elves, children because you know it's wrong. You're a cheat who handed back Merrill's amulet because you have a heart of gold. You returned the relic at great personal cost. So, I forgive you."

"I -," Isabela started. The bloody woman was forgiving her again? Did that make Hawke the most amazing woman in the world or the most stupid? Anyhow, she definitely did not warrant a friend such as Hawke. Somehow, somewhere, she had done something right. "Good. I'll need your help when Castillon sends his armada after me."

"You're awfully demanding, woman," Hawke commented. "First, I duel a colossal Qunari who wanted nothing but my head and now you want me to fend off an entire armada? The helpless maidens in the fairy tales were never this much trouble."

"You -, what?" the pirate queen bristled. "Call me a helpless maiden again, Hawke and I swear I'll –"

"You'll what? Pester me to death?" Hawke interrupted. "You already do that without trying."

"**Puta**," Isabela cursed good-naturedly. "I really despise you sometimes, Hawke."

The Champion smiled. "So you say, but I know better."

"So, now that we've talked and you've forgiven me, does this mean we get to have more _girly_ fun?" Isabela asked, impromptu.

Marian almost choked on her beer as Isabela's words registered in her mind. She looked up to see Isabela's coy face.

"You're unbelievable."

"Mmmm, that's more like it." Isabela then lowered her voice to a sultry whisper as she leaned closer, giving Hawke a marvelous view of her bosom. "Though, I preferred it when you called me Andraste. I had no idea you were so religious, sweet thing."

It took all of Hawke's willpower to prevent herself from shuddering as Isabela's words washed over her. _Why was she upset again?_ Maker help her. The woman was worse than a desire demon. She reluctantly reached down and pushed Isabela's insistent leg away. "You won't get me that easily, pirate."

The Rivaini sighed melodramatically. She was getting cock-blocked for stealing a stupid relic. Oh, she would pick up her charm and have Hawke back in her bed before no time. "Ah well, it was worth a try."

"Just stay out of too much trouble or else Aveline will be all over my ass. I'm supposed to keep you and Varric clean."

Though the guard captain and she had never gotten along, Isabela knew that the redhead had her heart in the right place. She was so uptight though. She just needed to get laid. "I bet she'd like that. Do us all a favour and remove that stick up her ass."

Hawke stood and straightened her leathers. "Aveline doesn't swing that way but I'll pass her your regards."

"Good, I happen to like your ass too much to share," the pirate winked and slapped Hawke's cute little derrière.

Shaking her head in amusement, Hawke left the tavern, very conscious of the pirate's eyes on her. It was going to be some time before the pirate got into her good graces again but Hawke was amused and a little too eager to see what degree the pirate queen would go to woo her back.

Isabela watched as the rogue left the tavern and sighed. She knew she should have ended things with Hawke before any more feelings entered the equation. But the reality was that she needed Hawke to help her with Castillon. If anybody was capable of stopping that cursed man, it was the Champion of Kirkwall. _Love and leave them_. If only Hawke had enough sense to stay away.

She waved down the barmaid. ''Another flagon of whiskey here!'' She took a swig and just for a while, the liquid took away the guilt.

* * *

A.N: Please review, also I need a beta-reader and someone to whisper me little ideas or improvements. I do not usually take the time to edit my pieces.


End file.
